


Lessons in Distraction

by Monobear



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Debatable Beastiality, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2168952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monobear/pseuds/Monobear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. When Peter Quill finds a recently escaped lab experiment - terrified, furious, and unsure of what to do - he does the only thing that he'd think of doing: bringing it back home with him, despite the initial reluctance. And now the two have to depend on each other to survive, despite the traumatic flashbacks and everything else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're A Mess, And I'm Worse

Rain wasn't exactly one of the best types of weather in the world for traveling in - the constant lightning bolts, the ominous crackle of thunder in the distance, and the fact that you had to constantly deal with the feeling of 'drip, drop, drip, drop' falling down upon you.

It was worse when you were running away.

The raccoon let out a relieved sigh as he stepped into a nearby alley - good, it looked empty - and slowly sank to the ground. His feet hurt - no, his _everything_ hurt - and he couldn't imagine why he was even bothering to escape. Death would be a mercy at this point, with how he felt. His mind was scrambled, his limbs could barely work themselves, and it took an obnoxious amount of effort to even get up, much less run. So he was worn out at this point, and shivering, with nothing more than a lab jumpsuit - and collar, _that fucking collar_ \- to his name. Seeing a spare newspaper, he managed to get himself to crawl over and put it over his head. That'd do, for now. 

This was experiment number 628 - codename: Rocket. The last few days had been nothing but a cycle of pain to him, to be entirely honest - he was torn apart, put together again, repeat, and he was still alive due to an obnoxious amount of willpower. Willpower that sometimes, he wish he didn't have. Especially now, considering that he was sitting in an abandoned alleyway, defenseless as hell and pretty damn weak, and he wasn't going to be able to move much any time soon. If anyone found him, he was as good as dead. Perhaps that'd be for the best.

He couldn't remember much, honestly - not the scientists faces, not their voices, nothing - just a lot of pain, and a lot of running, and one static-y memory of being alone and being cheerfully invited to be given a home...and like an idiot, he took it. He was young then, he knew that, and it'd been good until they finally decided to start putting the testing to work. Then it was a living nightmare. He'd picked up a few phrases in English from those (broken English, mind you, he wasn't the best at it yet), and he now was more used to being bipedal rather than on all fours, and he couldn't say that any of the trauma he went through was worth that.

"...Fuck." That was how a human expressed anguish, he assumed. And he couldn't think of any better word to sum up his mindset at that moment.

Well. Today wasn't the best day for Peter Quill. Fired again - of course - not being a natural at any job in particular and being easily distracted with your own stupid antics kinda gets you tossed out of a lot of jobs. Not much work for those sorts, and he knew it. So he'd started up his cassette player with Awesome Mix #1 (who needs an iPod, anyway?) and that almost instantly tossed out a good chunk of his problems. 

Some of those problems being, in order...

  1. He was unemployed now, and even then, he was previously working on minimum wage
  2. His only home was a shitty apartment he hardly ever cleaned
  3. He was most likely going to get drunk to forget all this, and end up with some random girl in his bed
  4. None of this was going to fix itself.



So he wasn't exactly going to get rid of them - simply distract himself, perhaps only for a while - but he wanted to keep this good mood going for as long as possible. Why not take a few shortcuts, was his plan. Down a few alleys, maybe up a few blocks, his apartment wouldn't be that hard to reach - and there he went, dancing down what looked to be an empty alley. He abruptly paused, seeing a small shivering figure underneath a newspaper. Okay, he had to admit that he wasn't in any reasonable state to give charity, but he wasn't an asshole - at least, not 100% an asshole (but no one's 100% an asshole) - so he had to check that out. Plus, he was simply curious. 

"...Hey?" He reached for the paper...

That was a voice. That was certainly a voice. Rocket backed himself up against the wall, and seeing the hand reaching out, he glanced about, not knowing what to do, before he cursed his tastebuds and bit into the hand, causing the guy to back up, himself, whining from the pain. "--Shit, hope you don't have rabies--I'm not going to hurt you anyway, christ! ....Why am I talking to a raccoon?" This guy was insane. But definitely harmless, from what Rocket could tell. So the raccoon cleared his throat, and...

"Not infected."

\--Holy shit, did that raccoon just speak?! Quill blinked, his mouth dropping open in surprise, as the furry creature's eyes darted around. It seemed unsure, really, almost scared. "...Okay, so, you're not infected. Good.....um. Hi. Name's Quill. Peter Quill. I just....um, I wanted to see if you were alright, ya seem kinda....lost? Scared? Something like that."

"...Alone. No home. Why you care?" Rocket asked flatly, staring up at the guy - Quill, was it? Quill. "I--I'm, I'm not your problem."

"Well, yeah, I mean, you're not officially, and I--...okay, let me start this over. You've got no home? And you seem like you're in...pretty bad shape. Would you, err, like a place to stay? Just for...a little while?" Okay, he was deliberately screwing himself over - did his apartment even allow pets? Whatever. 

"...You offering?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because I'm...naturally good, I guess. I don't know. Ya gonna take it or not?"

Rocket paused for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

Well. Alright then, that was an answer in the positive. "Can you walk?"

"...." Rocket attempted to stand and take a step, but with wobbling legs, he slowly fell to the ground. He hated this, he hated being weak, he hated himself - and yet when his new companion held him in his arms, he didn't feel bad at all. Much better than the rain, at least, and the warmth was reassuring. 

"Alright. Let's get goin'." It wasn't far from his apartment, of course, but it still wasn't too close. Rocket closed his eyes, resting in Quill's arms as he was held, letting out small shaky breaths that showed just out of his usual nature he was. "--By the way, ya got a name?"

"...Rocket." 

"Rocket. Okay." The sound of footsteps on the street was the last thing Rocket heard before he drifted into a small sleep, feeling relaxed for what seemed like the first time in ages. Quill glanced down at the raccoon as they approached his apartment, grinning a bit - pssh, cute lil guy tired himself out - and shaking his head. Worth it? Worth it. 

"--so, should I even ask what the furry bundle in your arms is, or do I not want to know?" That was a familiar voice. Looking up towards the voice - oh, of course - it was the girl in the apartment next to his, Gamora, and a pretty good friend, too. One that he hit on occasionally, and one who constantly turned him down. It'd turned into one of those relationships where she saw him 'like a little brother', and despite Quill's protest, it wasn't changing anytime soon. The black-haired woman approached, glancing down at Rocket. "...a raccoon? You know those aren't exactly domestic animals, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm aware." Quill rolled his eyes, holding the raccoon closely and carefully. "--It's fine. I'll be alright. Besides, you're the one who hid a snake in her room for a month."

"Kevin was a tame and gentle soul."

"Oh, yes, because the snake that actively tried to kill me every time I came over was secretly one of those artsy, brooding types. I'm sure....he didn't deserve that name, by the way. Didn't have any sort of charisma or legs to pull off good dance moves."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you were the lord of the dance."

"No, I'm Star Lord, get it right. Even if I'm also the lord of the dance."

"That's a dumb nickname, and you know it."

"Shaddup, it makes a cool gamertag on XBOX Live." This banter had become routine by now, and it wasn't likely to change. Gamora sighed.

"Where'd you pick this little guy up, anyway?" She raised a brow. 

"He was on the street, under a newspaper. He was cold and alone, and I have a heart, whether you believe it or not."

"Peter Quill is in possession of a heart? My God, what a revelation. Alert the masses, because who knows when it may disappear, never to be seen for the next million years." 

"You have an issue with the whole sarcasm thing. You do it way too much."

"I'm aware." Pause. "You named him yet?"

"Rocket."

"...Why?"

"It sounds cool."

"You have a major issue with space things." Gamora crossed her arms. "So. I'll keep this under wraps for the time being. For the time being."

"Is this going to be used as a weight over my head?"

"What do you think?"

".....you are a stone cold bitch."

"Proud of it." Gamora smirked, beginning to step back inside her apartment. "Anyway, unlike you, I have a job - which I'm already late to. We'll talk later." 

"--how did you know that I--"

"Women's intuition. Or the fact that you never hold onto a job for more than a week at most. Either or." With that, the raven-haired girl was gone, leaving Quill to walk into his apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. Admittedly, the apartment was not the best - it was budget, and he'd pulled a hell of a lot of strings to even keep it up to this point, and he hardly ever cleaned it (leading to Gamora absolutely refusing to step inside for the most part). He carefully placed Rocket down into a slightly ratty armchair (the arms had their fabric burned off a bit, along with obvious other signs of wear - he'd found it on the street, and it was still a perfectly good armchair) and let out a relaxed sigh. 

Of course, then he spotted a roach crossing the floor. "--fuck, no you don't." Where the hell was that flyswatter, where was the flyswatter--okay, there it is. 

Rocket then was promptly woken up by Quill letting out a string of swears as he attempted to kill the bug, staring at him as if he were insane. To be honest, he probably was, but who isn't, really.

"--there ya go! And that's why you don't mess with--"

"Dumb."

Peter looked up towards the source of the voice - oh. Rocket had woken up. "Oh, hey. Have a good nap?" He got a shrug in return. 

"What you doing?"

"....nothing, there was just an ugly ass little shit running around here, and he needed justice dispensed upon him--"

"...Dumb."

"I'm not dumb!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

"You're ungrateful!"

"I honest." Rocket grinned. Perhaps this had set the tone for all future exchanges between these two, and Quill couldn't help but feel that Gamora wouldn't be the only one messing with him from now on. Just what he needed.

Well, it was what one of them needed, at least...and eventually, what both of them would need.


	2. At Least I'm Not as Sad (As I Used to Be)

It'd taken a bit of awkward silence before they finally got down to bare bones. "Alright, so I'm going to need some explanation - what's with the collar and jumper? That got anything to do with the fact that you're speaking, or have I just become Dr. Doolittle all of the sudden?" He stared at the raccoon, who sank into the armchair.

"Experiment. C....Co....Codename Rocket. They hurt me. Kill me. Make me live again. Over and over. Can't die."

"--....well, _one of us_ leads a dark existence." 

"You asked."

"Yeah, I know I did. I'm assuming you're not a government project, either. Must be one of those-ugh, okay, yeah, I can understand how being on the streets would be better than being there." Quill bit his lip. "So they just...tore you apart and put you back together?"

"Yeah. Put robot-things into me, too. Feel weird. Can't control." Rocket was staring down at his paws, as if to question if they were even really _his_ paws anymore. They seemed foreign - hatefully foreign - and it almost felt as though he was just having a horrible nightmare, although he knew that wasn't the case, as much as he'd like it to be. "...I freak."

"You're not a freak."

Rocket shot him a look as if to say 'don't lie to me', and Quill stared at him in return as if to say 'I'm not'. Both were quite stubborn, if nothing else. "...you're one hell of an interesting guy, I'll give you that." Quill drummed his fingers on a nearby table idly. "And we're stuck together now. So, hey, I needed more action in my life, bring all the fuckin' dramatic shit you got." 

"You weird."

"I've heard that said before-"

"That okay. Weird is..." Rocket paused, as if looking for the word. "...good. Weird is good." 

"Weird is good, eh?" Quill snorted. "If you say so. I've gotten it pushed into me that it's not, but hey, whatever you say. So, need anything?"

"...." Rocket paused. "Hungry. Thirsty."

"....okay, here's where I fail, because I don't want to burn down my apartment. I....don't cook." Quill took out his cellphone, checking through the saved numbers. "...You 'kay with pizza?"

"......" Rocket stared at him with confusion.

"....Right, you don't know what that is. Okay. That's okay. You'll soon learn that it's the best thing you can survive on here. Besides Chinese. But that's an experience for another night."  He shrugged, tapping the number for the local Papa John's, as Rocket began to adapt to his new surroundings. He looked around slowly, then looked at the TV, picked up the remote, and turned it on. His eyes widened as the box lit up with color, tapping at the buttons on the remote.  

"Hey. Hi. I'm gonna place an order for one large pepperoni and cheese pizza. It's for the apartment..uhhh...456 on Cornerstone St. Yeah. Okay, yeah, thanks." He put the cellphone away as he looked over to check on Rocket and the TV screen - oh. Comedy Central. Of course he'd left it on that, it was either that or HBO most of the time. "'Ey, that shit's gonna rot your brain."

"That why you dumb?"

"...Christ, not even a day in and you're being a smartass. Ha ha, no, I was just born dumb. So there."

"...........That better somehow?"

"Yes, it's better somehow! Somehow. I think."

"That not sound too sure."

"Yeah yeah, I know. Anyway. Pizza will be here in 5." He took a seat on the floor next to the chair, looking up at the screen. "Anyway. I've got sodas and beer. And water. I guess. In bottles. The tap around here tastes like shit. Natural, purified shit."

"Gross." Rocket scrunched his face up in disgust. "You make worst comp...comp....campurison."

"Comparison. And yes, I know." 

Rocket slid out of his chair, walked into the kitchen - unsteadily - and grabbed a bottle of water, shakily. "--shit, shit, shit." 

"You can do it, I believe in you." Quill, you ass, why aren't you helping? Oh. Right. Because you're a lazy asshole who's too busy watching South Park on the TV. Rocket walked back into the room, steadying himself on the walls and then on the chair as he crawled up into it again.  "By the way, you've got one hell of a mouth for someone who just learned how to speak, presumably."

"That bad?" Rocket blinked, then looked at Quill with genuine concern as if to say 'please don't throw me out i'm sorry'. Quill snorted.

"No, it's just surprising to see a cute fuzzy raccoon swear like a sailor."

"I....I not cute." Rocket frowned in annoyance. "I not raccoon, either. Not stupid animal."

"Then what are you?"

"Rocket. There only one of me."

"...Alright, ya got me there." Quill raised his hands up in defeat. "So. Anyway, you've never been out of that lab in your life?"

"Never."

"Oh, shit, man, you've missed out on way too much! Like...okay, music, you've missed out on one of the best parts of life with that."

"...Like Bach?"

"No, not like...well...not exactly. Better, in my opinion." He took out the cassette player from his pocket, and put the earphones on Rocket's ears. "Okay. Be careful with this, but you've got to hear it. All the way through. At least once." Quill pressed the admittedly slightly worn play button (the word 'play' was almost entirely scratched out at this point, looking more like 'lloy' than anything), and after a few minutes, Rocket's face had shifted into one of mild confusion, but he kept listening. Quill grinned...and then there was a knock at the door.

"Delivery man, deliver-y maaaaan!" Quill hopped up and answered the door. Of course, it wasn't the delivery man at the door. It was another one of his apartment neighbors - this one being named Arthur Douglas, nickname: Drax (Gamora had called him that when he arrived, and it kinda stuck). 

Drax had moved into the building after Peter and Gamora, being the most recent occupant. He usually kept to himself, and it often took Peter or Gamora to reach out to him to get him to be the slightest bit social. He did have his reasons, however. He was an active police officer, and although details were few and far between, rumor circulated about that the reason he had moved into the complex was because he had failed a case: the one of the murder of his wife and daughter, and he couldn't remain in his house alone.

Though sometimes, it was hard to believe that he didn't think that he belonged alone due to that.

"I'm sorry to disappoint." Drax responded as Quill's face showed mild disappointment at the fact that it wasn't the pizza. 

"Nah, nah, s'cool, man. Just hungry. Sup?"

"I hear you have a new...pet."

"Gamora told ya?"

"Correct."

"Well, yeah, I do, though I'm not sure how friendly he is towards anyone else. He's kinda got a few issues to deal with, but hey, he's inside. Though I don't think he'd appreciate being called a 'pet'. More of a...roommate than anything."

"....What, exactly, do you mean by that? It is not like he can state his opinion clearly, being an animal--"

"Yeah, no, he kinda hates being called that, too. Let's just put it at he has a million buttons that'll make him blow up and it's a goddamn minefield to trapeze through that I'm doing through sheer dumb luck." He sighed. "It's...it's complicated."

"It certainly seems that way, yes." 

"You don't know the half of it, Drax." 

"....who that?" Quill's attention was instantly drawn back to Rocket, who was now looking over at Drax and him. 

"Rocket, Drax. Drax, Rocket." 

Drax's eyes had widened, hearing the animal speak, and he blinked for a bit before responding. "Hello...Rocket."

"Drax. Hi. This friend?"

"Yeah, he's my friend."

"So no kill."

"....Obviously!" That was an odd statement, and one that he'd have to certainly ask Rocket about later. The raccoon shrugged, slumping back into the chair. "....yeah, uh, he's...he's got a heart somewhere."

"No I don't."

"Shaddup!"

"Don't wanna." Rocket grinned. 

"...Right. I'll leave you two to have fun." Drax sloooowly backed away, and....then started quickly walking away. Quill sighed, his head hitting the doorframe.

"--Okay, so what was with that 'so no kill' thing? I thought that not killing someone was, y'know, obvious."

"..." Rocket was silent, his smile disappearing. "Not important."

"Uh, yeah, no, it is pretty important."

"It not matter!"

"Yes it does!"

"I.....I NOT TELL YOU!" Rocket had started glaring daggers at Peter, his claws digging into one arm of the chair. "I NOT NEED TELL YOU! YOU NOT NEED KNOW! PRIVACY!"

"...." Quill closed the door, frowning at his new companion, and reluctantly responding. "Okay, fine, I'll drop it, but I'd sure as hell like an explanation sooner or later so I know you're not going to claw me to death in the middle of the night."

"Giving me ideas. Not good for you."

"--if you actually do that, people will fucking know! So don't! I'm not going to--"

"Just kidding. You para....para....paranoy."

"Paranoid. Which I am not." Quill stuck his tongue out at Rocket immaturely. "If I was, I wouldn't've let you come home with me. But here we are. So I'd say you should watch your mouth, guest." And then there was a knock. Again. "Pizza man!"

This time, indeed, it was the pizza man. Well, actually, it was a girl this time....which, of course, Quill was not above hitting on.

"Alright, sir, that'll be 7.99..." 

"...y'know, I do have other ways of pay--"

"Sir, I'm not that desperate. Have a nice night."

"--....damn. She was cute, too." Rocket had been watching the whole time, amused.

"You not good with women."

"--I totally am! I'm James fuckin' Bond with the ladies! ....Not that you'd know who that is, but still! I'm a master of the art of seduction."

"Then why she reject so harsh?"

"....I don't know! She doesn't know what she's missing out on!" This only elicited a snicker from Rocket, who shook his head. Quill pouted, putting the pizza-in-box down on a table. "Okay, well, here's your food. And if they fucked it up, that's not my fault, that's theirs."

"I not care too much." Rocket scampered over, opening the box and looking at the pizza. Huh. How odd. He was mostly used to being fed garbage, and this was admittedly a step above that. Which kinda explains why he started eating like - well, a wild animal. Quill slowly stepped back as he saw Rocket's reaction.

"--Christ, were you being slowly starved to death or something?! It's not that good!"

"It great!"

"...You're not picky at all, are ya? Even I can tell they kinda burned it and--" Rocket had stopped listening, his cheeks puffed out with food stored in them. "--...okay, if you don't want to be called cute, stop doing cute things like that. Fucking adorable."

Rocket frowned, but then promptly stuffed his mouth full again, his hunger taking priority over his constant annoyance.

And as Peter watched the animal stuff himself to the point where he nearly fell off the table, he realized one thing:

_this would not be easy._


	3. With Everything Falling Down Around Me, I'd Like To Believe In All the Possibilities

The rest of the night proceeded...relatively smoothly until Rocket tired himself out. He'd fallen asleep in that chair, his head rested tiredly on one arm of the chair. His movement was still, save his breathing, and it could be admitted that he looked far more peaceful asleep than he did awake. That was, until his asleep expression shifted into a frown.

_"Beginning test on Experiment 628--"_

_"--It's perfect, it reacts--"_

**_"NO, NO!"_ **

_"I....I not leave you! I come back!"_

**_"CAPTURE IT!"_ **

Rocket woke up with a scream, his eyes darting around the room with worry. He'd...he'd made a promise. Did he fail at his promise? He could hardly remember what the promise was, just that he'd made one, and he wouldn't allow himself to fail at it. He swallowed, realizing he wasn't at the lab anymore with worry, his eyes filling up with tears from things he couldn't understand. And still, the eternal question still fell upon deaf ears: _...why?_ Why had any of this happened? Why was this something that had to happen? He was at one time what the world considered normal, and now he was a freak - appearing to be what he was intended to be at first glance, and then a freakish abomination given humanoid traits the next. 

He didn't even remember anything from what seemed like an eternity ago: did he have a family? If so, did they even notice? Or had he just simply been alone, and that was that? He knew quite well that he was innocent, he would've trusted anyone - and that, with all things considered, was his downfall. He put his faith into the wrong people, and he could hardly tell wrong from right. And they changed him, they **ruined** him, and he couldn't imagine anyone who would truly care about...about....

About something that deserved to die.

He stared at his paws - some mesh between human hands and animal paws, and pressed them over his eyes, nearly curling down into a ball. And then he began to cry. Of course, he knew that this wasn't the first night he'd cried himself to sleep, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. After that, his thoughts were empty, his sleep sound, but it still wasn't the best sleep, almost feeling like he had none at all. 

When the morning came, Quill walked out of his room, and after waking himself up a bit, he glanced over at the chair, checking on his new housemate. The raccoon was still asleep, his expression looking quite distraught and his tail curled around him protectively. He half-frowned, taking out a Dr Pepper from the fridge and opening it - fuck other morning drinks, this did the job anyway - while thinking to himself and leaning against one of the walls.  He'd taken a lab experiment in, and luckily his two friends were aware of the situation...generally, they didn't need to know everything, and...well.

He couldn't help but note the fact that he'd heard a scream last night - a terrified scream, and it had to have come from his new companion. He was concerned about him - his morals wouldn't let him just brush it off - but somehow he felt like Rocket wasn't exactly asking for concern, at least not outright. He could be worried, but it couldn't show. The guy just seemed to hate being pitied, and he couldn't blame him. It was demeaning, like he couldn't take care of himself, and even if he was temporarily in a crappy position, he knew damn well that Rocket was not the sort to take a shitty situation lying down. That much was obvious. 

But it was still a storm of stupid obstacles, and it'd take a lot of work to work past it. Somehow, Quill had made this his responsibility. And he couldn't exactly brush it off now.

"...Go...good mor....mornin'." Rocket had woken up while Quill was in thought, it seemed, and he was looking at Quill with wide eyes as if he didn't recognize him for a few minutes, and then his expression relaxed, remembering where he was. "....I not bother you?"

"No, you didn't bother me." 

"I....I have bad....bad dream. No sleep. Not anymore."

"You have to sleep, buddy."

"No. No more. I fine. I survive. It not matter if I survive, really." Rocket was just letting the sentences roll out in the midst of his tiredness. "...I need to die."

"--No. No, you don't." Quill stated flatly, frowning. "Okay, look, I took you in so you wouldn't die. And I'm keeping you here until you get into a situation where you're going to survive, and so help me god you will be so fucking happy to be alive that there will be rainbows jutting out from every goddamn orifice of your body." 

"......" Rocket stared at Quill like he was insane for a few minutes, then sighed. "....Good luck with that." He stated flatly, sinking back into the chair. "It not gonna happen."

"It won't happen unless you make it happen. And we are going to do this shit. We are gonna make it happen."

"Your inspire speech suck."

"Thank you for the words of encouragement. Now, what we're going to do today is..." Quill paused for a moment, remembering something. "...right. Gamora's going to probably come over today. Act. Cool."

"You want to hold her."

"Yes."

"You want to please her."

"Yes."

"You gonna fail and I gonna laugh." Rocket grinned. "I bet she too smart for you."

"--Hey, I'm smart!"

"What 5 times 8."

"......I'm smart in everything but math!"

"No you not, you dumb. It okay. I smart enough for both of us."

"Gee, thanks."

"You welcome."

Quill rolled his eyes, picking up a few leftover pieces of trash off the floor and dumping them into the trash can. Rocket blinked, but simply settled for turning the TV on once more, using that as a distraction from the nightmares that still loomed in the back of his head. He flipped channels until he got to one that had a movie playing on it. Seeing that it was relatively colorful, his eyes were drawn to it, and he wandered up to the screen and placed his paw to it, attempting to bat at it, his instincts taking him for a few minutes. 

 "It's a screen." Quill snorted. "You're not gonna enter it via tha--"

"Shhhhhh."

"--oh, c'mon, this movie's shit. It's just a bunch of boner jokes. Which, as hilarious as I find those, get old when they're being told to you by Brendan goddamn Fraiser."

"...what a boner?"

That caused an awkward silence for a few minutes. ".....I'll tell you when you get older." This elicited a confused expression on Rocket's face, before he shrugged and continued putting his face up to the glass of the screen. Quill just shook his head and hopped into the now empty chair. It was interesting to watch the little guy, to be honest. Never really knew what to expect - whether he'd be cute or an asshole. Mostly it was a weird mix of both, but that was alright in the end - he could tolerate both. He'd apparently been cute at one time ('which was absolutely the first minute you were born and no other time', as Gamora had put it once), and he knew that he was an asshole - not entirely, but...mostly, yeah.

He blinked when he zoned back in and Rocket had fallen over, looking away. The screen had gone to black-and-white, and there were scientists on screen, no doubt causing some unnerving flashbacks. Immediately, Quill changed the channel, grimacing. "--Yo, you okay? ...Probably should've warned you about that one..."

"I...I fine." Rocket responded, a bit weaker than the norm. Quill raised a brow, but said nothing, staring at the current show on the screen - some kind of kid's show with a boy and a dog. Looked kinda silly, to be entirely honest, but Rocket was watching it without flinching, so that was a good sign. Glancing up at the clock, he instantly froze, hopping up. 

"SHIT!"

"What?"

"She's coming in 30 min!"

"...So? Like I say. She not gonna be shocked." Rocket responded nonchalantly, shrugging. "Calm down."

Quill glanced back at him, letting out a long sigh. "Look, I know you don't understand, since you've probably never gone through something like this, but I want to genuinely impress her, okay? Like, I know you've probably never decided to take a girl on a date or something, you probably never even had a--"

"No. I und...und....get it." Rocket nodded. "I know how feel."

"Wait, did you..." With that, Rocket had tuned Quill out, staring at the TV once more. Quill simply settled for picking up a bit more trash, then walking to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower. If Gamora gets here, just tell her I'll be out in a sec." With that, Quill closed the bathroom door, leaving Rocket alone. The raccoon simply sat on the floor for a few minutes before he heard a knock at the door. With a bit of effort, he reached up, curling his tongue in determination and opening the door, causing a very shocked Gamora to stand at the door for a few seconds before stepping in. 

"...Uh...hi?"

"Hello."

Gamora blinked, her eyes widening at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. "...Okay, Quill, as much as I fuck with you and I know you'd love to get me back, you know that ghosts aren't my thing and I swear if you jump out at me, I will grab your balls and twist so hard that your eyes bulge out of their sockets. Fair warning."

"It not Quill. It Rocket."

Gamora cracked a grin at this, taking a seat in the chair and shaking her head, not seeing the small raccoon behind the door. "Oh, very funny. Talking raccoon. I'm a Disney princess now, am I? Well. We've got that down. Gonna jump out of nowhere in a prince's outfit now?" She snorted, half-singing. "Iiii've been dreaming of a true love's kiss~"

"What a Disney?" Rocket questioned, closing the door. Hearing the door close, Gamora turned her attention towards it, staring at the raccoon. "I don't know Disney."

After a few more minutes, Quill had gotten dressed and stepped out of the bathroom, clearing his throat as he did so - c'mon, Peter, keep it together! "Gamora! Hey! Sorry for making you wai--" He paused, seeing Rocket now happily sitting in Gamora's lap, both staring at the TV. He walked over, looking at the TV as well. "Oh, God. He's not going to understand thi--!"

"Shhh. You weren't out yet, so I'm watching it with him instead. He understands perfectly fine, don't you, Rocket?"

"Seid ihr das Essen. Nein, wir sind der Jäger." Rocket stated obediently.

"See?" Gamora responded, scratching behind Rocket's ear with a pleased smile as the raccoon leaned into her touch, happily watching a titan being taken down on the screen as Quill pouted. 

"...Fine, I like sci-fi anime better anyway..." 

"彼は非常に子どものようである、そうですね?" Gamora glanced down at Rocket. Rocket nodded in return. Quill stared once more in shock, his eyes widening.

"Don't tell me he understands that! He barely speaks English!" 

"You should give him more credit than you do. Rocket's actually very smart." Gamora stated matter-of-factly.

"私は彼が私に与えるが、彼が5歳児のよう実際にであるので彼を侮辱できない。" Rocket muttered. Gamora began laughing in response. "私がなぜここにいるか理由は、実際に、彼が私を必要とすることである。 彼は私のような誰かが彼のたわごとを把握することを必要とするまたは彼はばらばらになる。 私が疑うけれども私はそれを永久にしてもいい。" He grinned smugly.

"Would you two stop that?!" Quill responded exasperatedly. "I get it! He...somehow...knows Japanese fluently! You both do and that's your exclusive club thing and I'm not invited! I! Get! It!"

"Oh, alright, alright. We'll knock it off." Gamora shrugged, Rocket settling for letting out a small sigh and nudging her hand to cause her to gently stroke his head. He smiled, pleased, and then looked at Quill as if to say 'I told you she'd like me more.' Quill stuck out his tongue at him, crossing his arms and frowning, sitting on the floor next to the chair. 

"How are you not the slightest bit phased by the fact that I have...y'know..."

"Quill, I work in retail. This is the least weird thing I've seen all week."

"Ha ha. Didn't expect that one. But seriously?"

Gamora bit her lip. "Okay, yeah, I was a bit startled, I'll admit it. But it's like how..." She grimaced. "...my dearest father..." She spat the words out acidly. "Always taught me how to do. Adapt. Everything is more scared of you than you are of them. All that bullshit that Nerina always calls to preach to me."

Nerina. That was Gamora's sister - her admittedly far better off older sister, better known to the world at large as 'Nebula'. The drummer of a punk band - Sugar Skulls- that somehow got big due to the release of a viral video of one of their concerts (their bassist got electricuted. And lived.) blowing across the internet, she was now sitting pretty on a pile of pretty big money. Along with her turbulent on-off-relationship with her roadie/boyfriend which often got her swearing him off entirely and threatening to kill him, and then back with him a few days later, Nebula was 'better off'. Nebula had taken to the ideas that their father - a general - had taught them far more than Gamora did.

So Gamora was the black sheep of the family, and so far as everyone could tell, she could care less. 

"...Right." The ideas of that then hung over the room like a particularly angry blue-tinted elephant. Quill coughed. "So, I've got all the time in the world, wanna go somewhere?"

"If you let Rocky come with us." Gamora stated. Rocket nodded.

Quill looked down, then got up, a slight smile on his face. "Implying I wouldn't've dragged him along anyway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> The German sentence presented are the first two lines in the themesong to Attack on Titan.  
> Gamora and Rocket's conversation goes as follows:  
> Gamora: He's very childlike, isn't he?  
> Rocket: I can't insult him because he feeds me, but he really is like a five year old. The reason why I'm here, really, is that he needs me. He needs someone like me to keep track of his shit, or he'd fall apart. Though I doubt I can do it forever.  
> 


	4. Walk This Way

Rocket had taken to walking beside the two, holding Gamora's hand to keep himself steady - even then, he still wasn't entirely stable on his legs, and plus it was another chance to act like a smug asshole towards his new friend, who rolled his eyes, clearly at least a bit getting used to this hazing. He couldn't exactly help it, the teasing was in his personality, and perhaps it sprang from the fact that he liked to show that he was in charge of himself for once and getting by just fine, not a dead creature in the streets - no, he was surviving and thriving - and that alone made him happy. But he still couldn't help the fact that due to previous events, he was still wracked with guilt....for what, he didn't know, but every time he got too happy, it came back and shot him back down like a particularly spiteful sniper. It had been said once that ignorance is bliss, but Rocket couldn't exactly agree at the moment.

The trio were currently walking through the park - a place that instinctively set Rocket at ease - with Gamora and Quill talking. Rocket wasn't paying much attention, his mind generally being static at the moment to make him feel better. But the smell of the outdoors, the sound of birds chirping, it all set him at a certain state of peace that he couldn't help but appreciate the more he lingered in it.

"So. You essentially found him curled up in an alley, you made introductions and decided to take care of him?" Gamora questioned, moving her raven hair out of her green eyes. "Quill, you don't know anything about him or where he came from. You can't just suddenly decide that you're his new guardian. What if people come looking for him?"

"Look, he seemed pretty alone when I found him." Quill responded, looking away. "If there are people who want him, fine, as long as they don't want to hurt him, I'll turn him over if they just ask. But...look at him, I mean, jesus christ. As much as you don't notice it, I'm a good person. Mostly."

"I know you're a good person." Gamora couldn't help smiling a bit. "You're just the slightest bit naive. Too good for your own good, really. It's shit like this happening that proves that."

"...Well, I can't help that." Quill grinned. "And even with knowing I'm the greatest guy alive, you still won't date me?"

Gamora stifled a laugh, biting her lip as she smiled. "I never said that you were the greatest guy alive, don't quote me on that, egotistical ass that you are. And my not dating you has nothing to do with that. I don't want to ruin the friendship that we have--"

"That's a stock line and you know it."

"Okay, yeah, I know. You want to know the truth? I've....I've already got my eye on someone." Gamora admitted, a bit hesitantly. 

Quill raised a brow. "Oh, really? No lie?"

"No lie. Just don't spread it around, okay?"

"Awww, Gamora's gettin' shy." Quill nudged her, clicking his tongue. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone. Your secret's safe with me, Gammy." Gamora shook her head and playfully punched him in the side. 

"Asshole."

Rocket was staring at a tree, his eyes darting between the many that were in the park - but his eyes kept going back to one in particular. He gently lowered his hand and darted over to the tree, pressing a paw on it. He frowned, pressing both paws onto it. Honestly, he didn't know what he was expecting. He just knew that something else should be happening right now, not just the feeling of the wind behind him, this frustration and he didn't know why he was frustrated, he just _was._ He hated it.

Gamora and Quill were watching the scene with confusion, Gamora pursing her lips. Quill paused for a moment before walking over to Rocket's side. "Yo, you okay?" He asked, looking down at him. Rocket snapped out of his trance, looking up at Quill. In one fluid motion, he shook his head no. "What's wrong?" 

"I. Don't. Know." Rocket replied, a helpless expression on his features. He just stared back up at the tree and pressed his right paw harder on it, like that would do something. It didn't. When he realized nothing was going to happen, Rocket let out a small sigh. "I don't know." He repeated, his words sounding even more hollow and hopeless than before.

"...Hey, c'mon. You wanna get out of here?" Quill offered, offering his hand. 

"Yeah." Rocket nodded, taking his hand. 

Gamora watched the scene with a curious expression, but seeing the two beginning to take down the path, she followed suit. 

It wasn't long before the group had reached a diner - one nearby that one of Gamora's friends - Mandy - worked at. Quill had given her the nickname 'Mantis' for her passion in yoga (that she talked about on occasion) and her slender figure. She was almost guaranteed to be the waitress when they stepped in, and she was always happy to chat with them when she had the time. Alternatively, her pet dog - and best friend - Cosmo was happy to make their company. The owner had allowed the dog's presence at the diner since he was generally inviting and happy to make any customer happy (as long as they pet him, and maybe gave him some leftovers). 

The bell jingled as the trio walked in. "Gamora, Peter!" Mandy greeted, walking over and abruptly pausing, seeing Rocket. "...You two got a....pet?"

"I'm not pet. I'm Rocket." Rocket stated. Mandy jumped back, pressing a hand over her heart. 

"....Thank god I wasn't holding any plates at the moment..." She breathed out. "...This is going to be a very long story, isn't it?" She asked, glancing at Quill and then at Rocket. Quill shrugged, nodding. "I'll get drinks first, then. The usual for both of you?" 

"Might as well." Gamora said, sliding into a booth near a window. Quill slid in across from her, helping Rocket up to the seat, the raccoon's head barely poking up over the table. 

"Oh, uh, do you perhaps..." Mandy walked over, holding a booster seat. "I mean, it might help."

Rocket frowned, then slowly nodded. "Table too tall. Need shorter table."

Mandy smiled a bit apologetically and put the booster seat in, Quill helping Rocket into the booster seat. The raccoon grimaced, but drummed his paw/fingers on the table, putting his head in his other paw. "Oh, and do you want anything...." She glanced up at Quill. 

"Rocket."

"Do you want anything, Rocket?"

"...Dr. Pepper." Rocket replied. "I like...pizza."

"I'm afraid we don't--"

"Just get him what I get. He's not picky." Quill shrugged. Mandy nodded and made her way off to put in the order. "May as well not make her job any harder than it already is."

Gamora nodded, and Rocket snorted, putting his head down onto the table. He sneezed, having accidentally put his nose near a bit of pepper, his sneeze coming out as a tiny 'chu' like a kitten. Quill couldn't help but snicker as Rocket glared up at him. In the slight silence, the music drifted through the diner. Gamora and Quill exchanged a glance, hearing the song. 

"Early in the mornin', risin' to the street, light me up that cigarette and I strap shoes on my feet..." Quill sang quietly, looking at Gamora, who continued.

"Got to find a reason, a reason things went wrong, got to find a reason why my money's all gone."

"I've got a dalmatian--"

"And I can still get high."

"I can play the guitar like a mutha-fuckin' riot~" Quill, the natural dork that he was, began lightly air-guitaring. "...It's times like this why I question why we haven't started a band yet."

"Because none of us can actually play instruments?" Gamora offered. Quill scoffed.

"That's totally beside the point."

"It is? Are we to be carried on your voice alone?"

"My voice is strong enough to carry a whole army." Quill commented confidently. "I could--"

"Is this going to be going into one of your little fantasies where you save the entire galaxy through the power of dance and 70s music?" Gamora smirked. 

"No!....Well, yes. But it'd be totally cool and you know it."

"Mmm. Star-Dork, something like that only happens in a warped mind like your own." Gamora dryly responded, scooting over as Mandy returned with their usuals, sliding in beside Gamora with her own (vegan) burger and fries. 

"Are we discussing Peter's warped mind again?"

"I like how that's become a usual conversation topic now, christ." Quill snickered, glancing over at Rocket, who was staring at his chicken strips with analyzing eyes. "You just gonna scan it, or are you gonna--wait, wait." He grabbed the ketchup bottle, squirting a load onto Rocket's and then onto his own. "Theeere we go. Now it's good."

"...Blood...?" Rocket questioned.

"Nah, not blood. Ketchup. It's made from tomatoes. It's basically the best thing ever."

"You could probably survive on that alone for at least a year." Gamora quipped, pushing a french fry into her mouth.

"I don't deny that. Like, at all. Then again, I could say the same thing with you and peanut butter."

"Hey. Hey. That's totally different, that's just when it comes to chocolate."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Children, children. Let's not fight." Mandy glanced between the two, a hand pressed in front of her mouth to hide her amused smile. "Back to what I wanted to know originally: what, exactly, has been happening that led to today?" 

Rocket shoved a chicken strip into his mouth, chewing with a cautious expression before happily smiling and swallowing, and promptly stuffing more into his mouth, his cheeks puffed out like a squirrel storing nuts for the winter. It was somewhat adorable.

"Quill encountered Rocket on the streets. Rocket was alone, so Quill being...Quill took him in. He's been living with him ever since yesterday. Oh, and Rocket can talk in multiple languages. He's very intelligent."

"I...see." Mandy blinked, taking another bite of her vegan burger and swallowing. "I assume that's how it will remain. Knowing Peter."

"Hey, 'mm righch here." Quill replied, his own cheeks puffed out with food. Gamora and Mandy exchanged glances and nodded. 

That was about when a happily panting presence darted over to the table, letting out a friendly bark, Mandy petting his head. "Heya, Cosmo." The dog happily barked in response, noticing Gamora, Peter, and then...Cosmo began growling, staring at the raccoon. "No, no, Rocket's good..." Mandy cautiously warned as Cosmo continued growling. Rocket looked down at Cosmo, glaring in return. 

"Rocket..." Quill had also seen the rising tension as Cosmo and Rocket stared each other down for a few minutes. "...don't..."

That was about when Cosmo pounced at Rocket and Rocket began clawing in return, both beginning to fight, tearing through the diner. Mandy and Quill got up, dashing after the two and attempting to pull them apart. "COSMO! NO! BAD BOY!"

"ROCKET! STOP!"

It was about 9 PM when they got back home. Quill slammed the door open, not even looking at Rocket as he went to the kitchen. Rocket walked in slowly behind him, closing the door. The raccoon looked a bit ashamed, his fur messed up and his posture reflecting the fact that he knew he had done wrong.

After a few minutes, Quill walked out of the kitchen with a poorly drawn raccoon outline filled with 3/4th red crayon coloring on a lined piece of paper. "Okay. Look. This is your badness level. It's unusually high for someone your size. We've gotta fix that and make you into a model citizen."

"Mo...del citizen..." Rocket repeated.

"Yeah. Model citizen." Quill nodded. "You know a totally upstanding model citizen? Like, one of the people I look up to most? David fuckin' Bowie. We're going to be teaching you how to be a model citizen. Just like him."

The look on Rocket's face could not be more confused.


	5. Model Citizen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for another random update. Life's been busy and the author doesn't wanna get into it, but perhaps writing more of this would help. Also, if the reference in the last chapter didn't tip you off, this is somewhat of a Lilo & Stitch AU. (Somewhat, admittedly Quill and Rocket make the differences more obvious.) So that's more than likely to show why Rocket acts the way he does.
> 
> Plus, no one caught it, but at the beginning, Rocket was Experiment 628. So this was planned from the start, mostly because it's one of my favorite movies.

The next night was a dreamless night. Rocket was restless as usual, but he eventually settled down after a bit and fell asleep. By the next morning, Quill stepped out of his room with another paper stapled onto the 'badness level' chart. "Alright. I've compiled a list of Bowie's traits for you to practice. Number one is....dancing." 

"How that gonna help anything?" Rocket questioned, staring at Quill. "Sound dumb anyways."

"Hey, dancing is one of my main hobbies. It helps with everything, plus, it makes you look cool." Quill frowned, staring at Rocket in return. "Now, I almost never do this--" He grimaced, walking over to a boombox in a lonely corner. "We're going to have to listen to the radio for this one."

_Click._

* * *

 

_You look like an angel, walk like an angel, talk like an angel, but I got wise..._

 

"Let's move on to step two." Quill had taken Rocket out into the city, and the raccoon was uneasily walking beside him. "Bowie was a natural romantic. Seriously, he banged his way through like half the population, probably. Maybe even more. I'm just guessing, it probably WAS more. Anyway. We're going to get you a--"

"Quill."

"Yes?"

"I not what people look for." Rocket sighed, annoyed, pointing to himself.

"Aww, don't be so hard on yourself, man. This is New York. Everyone's into much weirder shit than you. Everyone." Quill brushed it off. "Alrighty. We're gonna Cyrano de Bergerac this shit. I'll hide and give you words to say while you romance the ladies."

"That work?" Rocket widened an eye questioningly. Quill nodded in return, then motioned to a girl sitting at a table alone drinking coffee. 

"Try that one."

Rocket winced, but walked over and sat across from the girl. "Um, hi." Quill ran into a nearby alley. 

"Introduce yourself." Quill whispered.

"Uh. I Rocket. You?"

"My friends call me Pepper. You can do the same." The girl smiled. "I'm glad there's someone to keep me company."

"Uh...yeah! Yeah! I glad to keep you company!" Rocket nodded eagerly. 

"Tone the excitement down, you look too eager and you're gonna scare her off." Quill whispered. Rocket subtly nodded, attempting to be calm.

Pepper petted Rocket on the head gently. "You're really cute. I'm sure **my boyfriend** would like you too--"

 

_You're the devil in disguise, oh yes you are, the devil in disguise!_

 

Quill instinctively winced. "ABORT! ABORT!"

"...u-uh, I...I gotta go!" Rocket ran off, Quill dashing after him. Pepper blinked once, twice, then sipped her coffee once more. A bit further down the street, Rocket and Peter gasped for air. "Why you make....sudden stop to romance?!"

"She had a boyfriend! We can't exactly ruin a guy's relationship, or he'll be out for blood!"

Rocket scoffed. "I kill him before he kill me. She pretty too." He leaned against a wall. "Romance stupid. Let's move on."

 

_You fooled me with your kisses, you cheated and you schemed, heaven knows how you lied to me, you're not the way you seem._

 

"Yeah, that might be for the best."

* * *

 

_You look like an angel, walk like an angel, talk like an angel, but I got wise..._

 

"Alright, number three is fashion." Quill had taken Rocket into a children's boutique, seeing as nothing else would fit him. "Bowie was one of the best looking guys ever. He had women and men wanting to sleep with him, straight, gay, whatever, everyone was Bowie-sexual and that's because he looked damn good. Now, I know we can't make you look AS good, but we'll sure as hell try to make you look at least halfway there." He picked up a shirt, looking at the design, realized it had characters from a kids show about firefighting dogs on it, and put it back. The next shirt he picked up had a pony on it - Rainbow Dash, to be exact. "I dunno. I like this one."

"...." Rocket stared at Quill for a few seconds.

"....What? It'd be cute. Though, I dunno, you seem more like a Twilight Sparkle type--"

"No." Rocket stated flatly. "Not happening."

"Oh, I was kidding." Quill snickered, putting it back. "...Kinda. Anyway." 

Rocket tugged at a t-shirt that had a little potted plant with a smiling face on it, looking determined. Quill blinked, taking it into his hands. "What, this? Seems too cutesy and cheerful for your tastes, dude." 

"Want that one." 

"Alright, if you insist..." Quill shrugged. "Lessie...we gotta get you a running supply of these..."

"Excuse me, sir, would you like some hel--" A clerk had come by to 'assist', and she froze up when she saw Rocket. Quill quickly noticed, quickly trying to stop her from the inevitable--

"No! No, hey, he's with me! He didn't, like, come in here alone--"

 

_You're the devil in disguise! Oh yes you are, the devil in disguise!_

 

"ROOOOOOOODEEEEENNNNTTTT!" The woman screamed. Immediately, Quill took Rocket into his arms and bolted, pushing his way through the other patrons.

"Excuse me! Coming through! Sorry, gotta--" Quill froze when he saw a van labeled pest control pulling up. "--SHIT!" He immediately made a dash away - he didn't care where, just...away. "OKAY! I'll...I'll find somewhere else and go there by myself sometime soon..."

"What the problem anyway?" Rocket questioned from his position in Quill's arms. "I not doing anything."

"You wouldn't understand, buddy." Quill let out a sigh when they were far enough away. "You wouldn't get it--" He then noticed that Rocket was wearing the pony shirt over his usual jumpsuit. "--pff. Okay, yeah, definitely not going back there."

 

_I thought that I was in heaven, but I was sure surprised, heaven help me, I didn't see the devil in your eyes._

 

Rocket offered a smirk anyway.

* * *

 

_You look like an angel, you walk like an angel, but I got wise..._

 

 

At the end of it all, it'd just ended with an exhausted Rocket and Quill lying in the chair in the living room, Rocket dressed in the pony shirt and some pants that Quill had gotten while he told Rocket to 'stay outside and hide'. Quill had attempted to flirt with the girl who was checking out the items by trying to pass himself off as a recently-divorced dad with a son - who the clothes were for, naturally, but this failed when she revealed that she was gay, and Quill just lying in the chair weakly occasionally letting out a small groan from his legs hurting from running so much. A knock at the door got Rocket to get up and answer it - and it was Gamora.

"Whoa. You two look like a hot mess. What happened?" She questioned. 

"I becoming model citizen." Rocket stated proudly. Gamora glanced over at Quill, snorting, even moreso when Rocket tacked on 'just like David Bowie!' 

"Oh, you are, are you?" Gamora was shaking with repressed laughter. "Juuuuust like David Bowie."

"Shut...up..." Quill muttered. 

 


End file.
